2014-03-23 - Stark Expo: True to Life
It was a good 30 minutes, at least, perhaps closer to 45, after Hill had departed and descrambled the systems. Natasha had to extricate herself from the conversation with Tony and Nick without being too obviously angered (though perhaps she failed at that; though we can blame it on the baby hormones), wait for the car, and then finally be brought back to where she and Stark were staying. Then make her way to 'their' room (really, his, but let's be honest, she's staying with him), find the control array for the LMD, and log in, get connected-- it's instantaneous once it's started, but still, the decoy takes a moment to 'come to life'. The LMD blinks, finishing it's boot up process, and moves from where it had been stored inside the closest of Stark's bedroom in the mansion. She does a sweep of the room, then departs, and enters the hallway... dressed for battle, as it were, though the LMD itself has been repaired with the nanites, the catsuit Natasha had worn during the recent battle with HYDRA is still torn in places: where Scorpion stung her, most notably, but also in various other places. It seems Natasha opted for a regular suit instead of one of her more armored ones, but then again, it was just a decoy. Bucky was just exiting the gym, his white shirt sweaty, his brow beaded and hair damp. He looks, overall, refreshed. And as if he's just gotten done with a very intense workout. He pauses, when he sees the LMD. And, the LMD won't fool him again. But, he knows she can hear him. "Let me guess," he answers. "You left your best suit at home?" Natasha turns to him, her expression icy and business-like. "We had a security breach. I logged into the suit, since I can't teleport from Malibu." Beyond the ice, though, is a touch of something that could almost be called hurt. Almost. She would not admit to such. She doesn't have the right, anyway. "I was simply checking out the status of the mansion." A lie. She had been moving down the hallway with a purpose, in a manner meant to cover ground. "You know," mentions James dryly, "You're right. This LMD is almost impossible to tell apart from the real thing. I tell when it's lying, too." Grabbing the towel around his shoulders he pats his face dry. "There wasn't any security breach." "So, you are saying Agent Hill did /not/ come into the mansion, and scramble the video feeds in the hallways, and leave after having 'a workout' with you in the gym?" To her lie, she doesn't respond. And if her tone has a hint of bitterness to it, that must be James's imagination. "That's not a security breach," points out James, dryly. "And you damn well know it. She wanted a private conversation. Without the cameras." His eyes watch the woman, curiously. And, he's certainly not making the connection of the implication, yet. His mind just hasn't gone there. "She thought I'd tell her something you hadn't. Something about keeping secrets for years from SHIELD. I told her I wouldn't have told them about the Red Room either." Natasha gives him a weighing look. He's a trained spy, hell, he's the man who trained /her/. He could lie with a straight face, and she'd likely only barely catch it, if at all. "So, you were not..." and she realizes what she was about to ask. She changes the subject. "She is unauthorized to be here. Scrambling our security feed, especially with this issue with T'Challa..." she scowls. She will /not/ let him turn this on her. This was an issue. It /was/. She was /not/ just lashing out jealously. She had been trained better than that. "I was not ...," no he's not letting that go. It's too rare for Natasha to say something and not complete it. Then again, he doesn't know what, exactly was transmitted, jammed, and when the jamming ended. "...What?" The man gives her a pointed look. He's a spy, yes. And one of - if not the, best in the world. A detective? Not quite so much. "Considering I tried to kill the woman, I figured I'd give her a chance to say her mind." Natasha doesn't know exactly what, either, only what Stark had gathered from what he saw. "You were not..." she pauses, looking like she might be hunting for an appropriate term. "You were not /with/ her, then?" She gives him a firm look. "That is what it appeared, I understand." James stares at the woman. The LMD. And, of course, it clicks. But more than just the implication fall into line. Natasha's hurried pace, her determination. The lie, for why she activated the LMD and hurried. But, his features don't reveal that. The awareness doesn't even reach his eyes, "She asked me to spar, after we had our conversation. Her Sambo needs work. Then she invited me to dinner, and left." Natasha's own expression reveals little to nothing. "Ah. So, business and pleasure. I cannot say I'm not guilty of mixing the two." "I figure she's going to give me some pitch to join SHIELD, or at least, try to put the idea in my head. Best to get it out of the way as early as possible." James' lips press together thoughtfully. "When you get back from Malibu, why don't you come see me in person." Natasha lifts her head and looks up at him. "We already tried that," she says quietly. She remembers that very well, his hands on her back, her stomach, his offer-- implied or outright stated. Interrupted by Stark. Which was right, wasn't it? Considering everything going on, it was the right thing, wasn't it? "Tony wants to stay, I think," she says, almost as an explanation. "I see." The words, now, are a bit more impersonal. "So you've given up your position at SHIELD. Given up being active, and involved, with the world. And now you're going to give up the home you've created with your own hands for yourself. To start a new one. With Stark. You told me, Natalie, to stay here. Where I'd be close. And now you're telling me you're going to stay in Malibu. With Stark. How much more are you going to suffer for a man you don't love in the least?" "That's not fair," Natasha responds, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "I didn't... I did not know." What she wants doesn't matter. It never has. "My demotion was a fair punishment for withholding information, James. I knew the risks when I made that choice." She refuses to meet his gaze. In so many ways, it /is/ his Natalie, almost exactly as he remembers her, before him. "And home? You know as well as I do that a home is a danger, James. You cannot get attached. Not doing what we do." "I would've withheld the same information. But your demotion wasn't just about that." The voice is harsher, now. The anger cracking through his armor at the frustration of the situation. He's quiet, then, for a long moment. "You have anything else you want to say to me?" Natasha hears his anger, his frustration coming through the chinks in his armor. Hell, /she/ is the chink in his armor, and she knows this, even if she doesn't want to know it right now, not with everything else. She swallows, looking up at him, her lips parting to speak, to say something. Her eyes look as lost and overwhelmed as they did the first night he had snuck into her room after they had survived a trip through the Red Room togethe-- The decoy looks startled, all of a sudden, and the light in the eyes goes from blue to red and back, and it collapses into a limp puddle, 'unconscious' in the hallway. The man pauses, picks up the LMD, and hefts it over his shoulder. Then, he moves to the gym. He dumps the woman - the robot - into the duffle bag, making it fit. Stuffing it. It's just an object, after all. And then carrying the object in the duffle out to the taxi, he heads back to Natasha's apartment. Drops the duffle into the closet. Then? Then it's hitting the vodka. And god help the first villains to cross his path, as Captain America. And only Steve's memory may stop something bad from happening.